The Potions Master's Countdown to Christmas
by galleons
Summary: Christmas is approaching and Professor Vector's old boyfriend was spotted in Hogsmeade.Whatever will a Potions Master do? He despises the holidays, but there could be more,er, complications this year.
1. December 1st

**The Potions Master's Countdown to Christmas**

_Yes, another one...can't help myself. It is replacing a fic I took down in order to rework, so techinically it is not another one. LOL!_

_Disclaimer: Fanfics are just for fun and never for profit. Someone sent me a niffler for Christmas and alas, all my galleons are gone._

**December 1****st**

Professor Septima Vector's eyes locked on the shiny green paper for a mere moment. Silver bells twinkled and swung languidly back and forth on the paper…magicked gift wrap obviously. They made a sweet tinkling sound that was pleasant to the ears. And it was obvious that the bestower was hoping that their Potions Master found it pleasant too.

_Well, it was a nice gesture to try to appeal to the cold-hearted dolt_. She knew his students had a huge test before the long holiday break.

The tinkling of the bells was disrupted by an abrupt crackling sound as the paper was slowly crumpled, the images of the cheerful bells disappearing before her eyes. The paper, now in a crinkly ball, rose in a perfect arc as a long arm raised a wand and directed the paper towards a rubbish bin at the far end of the room, and the paper deposited itself. Using verbal spells merely for instructing younger wizards and witches, Severus Snape had no desire to use them in his office usually.

Professor Vector opened her mouth slightly as if to say something and then thought better of it. Her gaze now followed the other hand that rose in the air still poised as if gripping paper that was no longer there. She couldn't see his face because she had gone to the other side of the room to get the rest of the mail and the Christmas presents that were sent early. They also had one more temperamental and complicated potion that Pomfrey needed that they had to carefully oversee in its final stages. As for the Christmas gifts, some students, colleagues, parents, and the like sent them early because Hogwarts was far too busy right before the holiday break.

She couldn't see his face, only a green overstuffed chair, and only strikingly black hair that fell in sheaths to his shoulders, and a strong profile that turned as a hand moved forward to a rickety dark wooden end table and pointed a wand at another gift that levitated and landed in his other palm.

As he summoned each gift and slowly opened them, her eyes kept going back to his hands. It was curious. She wasn't sure why. The hands that elegantly yet slowly but furtively tore open another bit of paper were white and soft with long fingers. She couldn't understand why he would use magic to receive them but refrained from using it so he could slowly unravel the paper. It occurred to her that he probably secretly enjoyed it because she knew for a fact that he spent Christmas at Hogwarts and received nothing on Christmas Day. The students and staff sent gifts earlier in the month. It was sad but she then wiped the thought from her mind. Surely, it was entirely his own doing.

It was why she felt sorry for him, even though he was a complete asshole to her. She always gave him his gift on the 24th. _Merlin, had it been four years now that I had worked here? _She guessed that at least he could open _something _on the 25th.

She shook her head and looked at his hands again. It surprised her that after years of ingredient preparation in Potions class and making some for students and staff in case Pomfrey needed something, the monotonous cutting, peeling, etc, that concocting potions warranted, he had merely two little scars that one wouldn't notice unless they cared to look.

However, those hands worked, a lot, and had done much. The undersides were slightly calloused but still soft. They had gripped her arm once or twice when trying to stop her from doing something, even the palms had placed themselves on her cheek…her forehead…when her life was in danger once.

She grudgingly appreciated it. She'd show much more appreciation if her were nicer to her…

That had worked together for four years and she always believed that eventually he himself would soften over time. She had seen potential in glimpses; some words, a kind act here or there, but nothing promising.

They could get along perhaps but they would never be friends in the true sense.

She sensed that the wall would always be up like it was for everyone else and that he would only peer over it once in awhile and then pull back.

It was sad, lonely, and she was never mad at him permanently after a heated row because she somehow sensed it was a guarding of himself.

_But he was still an asshole at times…._

And the thought made her forget, as she continued to watch him open gifts, the time that her life was in danger…working for the Order.

Her life in danger…the only time she allowed the miserable moron to touch her.

_It didn't count right? _It was only to check her signs and then see what potion would be right for the spell that was cast on her. He checked her eyes, moved her hair out of them, felt her pulse, put a hand on her head to see if she was still warm…_I mean, I was nearly unconscious after all….I hadn't looked good until he arrived….according to those who were there._

And when she managed to look up trying to catch her breath while she struggled with the pain and he told her to look at him as he analyzed her pupils, for a moment, she thought she saw concern. _Perhaps a bit? Was he all bad_? He had saved Potter countless times and she heard about other people too. If Pomfrey needed something unusual for a student with a rare affliction due to a hex or trying something new and botching it that she ran out of, he had it for her before she could ask twice. _Did that count? Surely that was concern for others?_

And then she lost her train of thought because he started to speak to her…

"Vector, it is quite simple. If you refuse to tell Flitwick that all the choir practice in the world couldn't help those dunderheads, your friend, Sinistra especially, I will not be held responsible for what happens next…" the voice was cold but she detected an ounce of his taste for dry humor in it.

"And what might that be?" She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Ear plugs, oh, and believe me, I will let them see me wearing them." His face was expressionless but dour.

He was still at it. In a way she couldn't blame him. She could hear them down to the dungeons, when she was down there, quite often again lately and unfortunately too, because they were using the corridor that led to the spiral staircase for better acoustics this year. However, just because he knew that she was good friends with Flitwick and that Aurora was her closest friend, didn't mean she had to do his dirty work for him. And she had to admit to herself that he had no qualms about making his opinion known at staff meetings and in the Order, _so maybe he…deep down, er, somewhere, felt bad about telling them but would never admit it?_ So, she would have to hear his complaints so he could vent. _Lucky me_…she pondered.

"It has been weeks and I see no difference…and considering that your friend Sinistra as well carries a tune much like an expiring hippogriff, you can sympathize surely. There's not a spell in existence that could improve that lot. And they should be studying. There are exams before the holiday break…an utter waste of time and my hearing."

"I refuse to do that. I will not hurt their feelings." She didn't say that they could probably use a bit more practice too and that they needed to lose the part with the toads.

"Very well..." His lip curled.

Silence.

_**Two hours later…**_

Professor Snape continued his ritual. A wand rose, an object came undone, the other hand carelessly waved paper into a bin, without him looking back at it.

Professor Vector had brought the rest of the batch to the table an hour ago, while she was overseeing the final stage of a potion that was brewing in a cauldron and that was also ladled into a flask, labeled, and ready for use by Pomfrey. She believed she could go now.

She had both her arms resting on a chair's armrests and she gazed at him. She inhaled and rose to her feet. She walked slowly and her perception changed. She settled herself in a chair a few feet away from Snape that faced his own.

"I am going now. I am quite finished."

He looked at her as if there was not an inkling of truth to her statement and then sighed resignedly. He looked merely indifferent as to her coming and going but then he spoke.

"Surely you can. But alas, the disturbance has caused me to go about this business slower. If only you would agree to have a word with Sinistra…"

"Why can't you tell them yourself?

"I believe it will be better coming from you." It hung in the air that they would probably listen to her because they liked her better. "Fine, well how about just assisting me with this last? Write the names on the tags down for me so I can keep track of who gave the gifts."

Her eyes flew open. "Do you…do you mean to send thank-you cards this year, Severus?"

Snape raised an eyebrow and glowered.

"No, but it will be noted."


	2. December 1st continued

**The Potions Master's Countdown to Christmas**

**December 1****st**** continued…**

Professor Snape sat in his chair enjoying the warmth from the fire. It was with relief that he thought of the presents that were now unwrapped that he was bewitching with his wand to fly into new appropriate places in his office that he deemed so. His work was done. Vector's was not. She was still writing down the names from the tags so he could keep a record of which students, families, co-workers, acquaintances, etc. had sent him something. Tedious work but, well, Vector was helping him after all.

The month of December, for him, was twenty-five days of sheer torture. Actually, the torture stretched out until around the day after New Year's. January 2nd seemed quite a long way off. At least he sometimes escaped for New Year's if there was something going on. That depended on the year, the people involved, and what he was doing for the people he "worked" for, namely Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. For double agents could not "call out" if there was work to be done. Even on holidays.

His thoughts that had been roaming broke, and he once again focused on the present and the woman in his office. _The woman in his office…_His former mentoring subject that he secretly was growing to adore, but couldn't tell. It made his holiday season worse. But then he pushed the thought from his mind as he watched her, very closely. He had a smaller secretary-style desk in his office that she used when she came to help him with something. It was old, Merlin knew how old, because he had had Filch go to the Room of Requirement to find one and this is what he and _that cat_ had dragged back. Snape refused to refer to that flea-infested ball of dust as _Mrs. Norris._ It was most unsettling to him.

_Poor Filch…alone for far too long._

As was he…his whole life really…until he had met Lily. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that Vector hadn't noticed, and he cleared his thoughts. He didn't want to dwell on those memories now.

Her head was bent as she wrote in her looping, slanty, graceful script. She still had quite a few names to go…

She sat at the desk; one leg tucked under her. The elegant heeled-boot on the floor tapped unconsciously from time to time, and was endearing to him as he watched her work. He knew most of her habits, even the odd ones, even the ones that were awfully attractive to him.

She had on a dark green dress, sleeves rolled up as she worked, and a few buttons casually undone under the little white lace collar of her dress. She couldn't see him watching her because she was deep in concentration and her hair fell into her eyes when she moved. Once in a while a hand brushed languidly through her hair to keep it in place. It fell in front of her eyes again eventually.

He could always tell when she looked up because the blue eyes stood out from the black hair and the green dress. Really, they were so dark…unusually dark, that they stood out no matter what she wore.

He marveled that at twenty-eight, only a few years younger than him, that she still looked like she was much younger at times like these. The same quirky writing stance that he had noticed on some of his students as they wrote during an exam, it amused him.

_Was this heaven? Was this bliss or whatever people refer to it as?_ Could he expect half of anything this wonderful wherever his soul would eventually go? Because he had so much more to do to make up for his past, it didn't bear thinking.

He continued to watch her.

He hated Christmas but this was more pleasant. _This moment, in his office…with her_.

Dumbledore was Headmaster when he was at school. Snape had stayed at Hogwarts not wanting to go home, and his parents were indifferent. If he preferred to stay they saw nothing wrong with it. They were too busy battling amongst themselves to notice really. There was nothing to go home to, so after his first year he didn't bother anymore. Even when Lily went home for the holidays each year, it didn't matter, because the Evans were so busy that he never really saw her over the holiday break as they grew older. And Petunia knew how to botch any plans he hatched to see her.

A part of him always noted each year which of the students, few in number, had stayed over the holidays at Hogwarts. He always avoided them. Perhaps, it was too much for him? If he asked about it or if he pretended to acknowledge them it could lead to finding out why they stayed behind and maybe it would hit to close to his own recollections? Not that anyone minded really and surely the students were relieved that Professor Snape ignored them. Dumbledore and the staff more than made up for it. They had a huge feast and the staff sat with the students. If Dumbledore got word that they hadn't received anything for Christmas, well, then he made sure that they did at school. Vector was another sentimental fool, especially, if she knew they had a troubling situation at that time. She was always so nice to all of the students really.

Sometimes it made him uncomfortable because he couldn't feel that way.

It was then that Vector looked up.

"You have got to be joking. I didn't see those other tags. _Merlin,_ I will be here another half hour at least."

He offered her a wry smirk and said nothing. He waited until she picked up her quill and then resumed quietly studying her.

This is what he loved. Some quiet time and being left alone. The fireplace… his cozy chair… piles of books, elf-made wine, and Vector. He took a slow sip of his wine and his gaze never left her direction.

And then he sighed resignedly. It was tiresome making up fake work so she had to be with him. _One_ _half hour? _

What should he say next? What potion could he mysteriously be out of that she wouldn't notice was stocked in his stores?

Alas, it was probably pushing it tonight if he claimed to need her longer.

_**Forty-five minutes later…**_

She sat on the floor by the fire still looking over the names from the tags. The dark wavy hair was tinged with red due to the glow of the fire. The creamy, velvety skin seemed to glow too. She laughed out loud as she perused over one name, remembering the ridiculous gift certificate to Madame Puddifoot's that some first year's family sent him, who apparently didn't realize that he would burn the place down before having to set foot in it. But her laughter reverberated within him…_so pleasant, so entrancing_.

This was happiness for him, for she, er, didn't seem to mind being here. Though she said she was supposed to go out with Sinistra, but if they really were out of that potion for the sick children she would stay.

Thankfully, he had thought quickly and remembered that Pomfrey _did_ have two seventh years that had to stay in the hospital wing.

"You haven't checked the potion. Ten minutes has passed, Vector. Is it green yet?" he asked softly.

He watched her get up and give him _that look_ as she rolled her eyes and walked over to the cauldron.

_Lovely…_

His lip curled and he smiled deviously to himself and quickly, so Vector wouldn't see it.

_Wouldn't it be nice if she ever stayed because she wanted to be with me?_

He looked over at the clock and noticed that it was already five.

And he ceased to wildly ponder what if, as a thought occurred to him.

_Flitwick was starting the damned decorating tomorrow. _And that usually brought about what he also dreaded regarding the holiday.

_The Hogwarts Choir….with Sinistra and her warbling in it!_


	3. December 2nd

**December 2****nd**

Professor Snape could feel and hear the scrambling about in the Slytherin courtyard, the courtyard that was adorned with silver and green standards and banners and now was unfortunately also bedecked with holly and bunting and other such holiday nonsense.

He didn't pay it too much mind at first and turned in his bed to get more comfortable.

The voices grew a bit louder and he just turned again and settled himself deeper within his pillows in the canopied bed within his quarters.

"Silent Night…Holy Night…"

At first it was unclear…_it was somewhat melodic…was that singing?_

"All is calm…all is bright…"

"A bit louder…hold the notes please…good."He recognized the voice. Flitwick's voice had given the directive.

He sat up in bed and looked at his clock.

"_8 in the morning…were they all mad? Was it not December 2__nd__? Did he not recall from last year that they at least had the common decency to wait until the second week of the month._

"SLEEP!"The note carried for a whole five seconds, loudly, and very much off key. Snape had first thought that someone had kicked Mrs. Norris. He smiled nastily to himself and then the realization...

And he arose.

_Merlin's beard it was that awful Sinistra and her off key rambling…_

And he had been out very late last night. He had worked acquiring information for both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore.

_I could kill Sinistra easily…no after thought._

" IN HEA-VEN-LY…

_Yes, everyone else was sleeping in peace except me. _He snarled in derision.

_Wait until I see her at breakfast….she'd have nothing to sing, er, warble about._

_Would langlock work from the depths of the dungeons? _He pondered in exhaustion.

_Surely, it couldn't hurt to try._

He climbed from his bed and headed toward the bathroom. Sneer firmly in place and horror and animosity towards Aurora and her vocal chords growing.

"Good work, Aurora!" He heard Flitwick call out cheerfully.

_Was Flitwick delirious? Had he finally cracked after years of her deplorable and erratic attempt at carrying a tune?_

_They were both crazed…enough of her antics!_

And he would inform her of this at breakfast in the Great Hall.

But he had to be careful. He had to do it before Vector arrived.

_She always did stick up for her friend._

And it ,er , touched him that she did so.

_**One hour later…**_

Professor Snape entered the Great Hall at 9 and took his usual seat at the dais.

"Good morning Severus," said Sinistra with glee. Her face was glowing and it irked him. He sneered at her.

He rolled his eyes. _Obviously someone was ecstatic after a practice session._

_And a bit deluded as well…_

"Is it? Mine hasn't been. I'm afraid I have gotten very little sleep," he snapped morosely, and reached for the pumpkin juice, failing to look at her.

He decided that it was safer to reach for the juice so he didn't do something else with his hand that he would regret. His wand was always tucked securely in the front of his robe pocket.

_On the left side, so my right hand, my wand hand, could, and with very little hesitation…_

"Really? How dreadful! What happened?" she inquired pleasantly.

"You." And he accidentally placed his juice goblet down a little harder than he would have liked to.

"What do you mean?" she seemed apprehensive.

"Silent…Night…" His voice was low and menacing.

"Oh, were we too loud?" she gushed but still looked fearful.

"Being too low would not mask your pitiful and woeful, and might I add, graceless carrying on…do you really refer to it as singing?" His lip curled and he glared at her with revulsion.

"Of course it is."

"Is Hagrid present?" He looked around, his voice deep and a bit raspy, due to lack of sleep.

She heard the slight change in his voice and panicked.

"Why yes."

"I need to ask him if the creature in the Slytherin courtyard, apparently in the last seconds of its life and in the throes of a most painful death, made it through or was that just you Sinistra? Perhaps…singing?" The look he gave her froze the very blood in her veins.

She blushed violently red and didn't answer him.

"Professor Flitwick doesn't seem to think so…" she mumbled.

"Professor Flitwick was my mother's professor, and I can only assume is getting on in years…." snapped Snape impudently.

"How dare you!" she whispered.

"How dare you assault my hearing most grievously," he said irately.

They both ate from their plates and said nothing further for a few moments.

"Where is Vector?" he asked coldly.

"She isn't here yet."

"Well, when will she be here?" his tone was mercurial.

"You're the spy… go and find out," retorted Sinistra, burning with embarrassment and hurt.

And when she didn't show to breakfast, he thought how odd it was and it instantly riled his suspicions.

_Was she ill? Had she gone somewhere? Had Gringotts perhaps asked her to come in and consult again?_ He had to smirk. Those goblins liked no one, but she was so smart, _and sweet,_ and gave them such good advice that this was like a compliment from them. He had even heard that they had offered her a promotion from her old job, if she ever decided to retire her Arithmancy position.

He was secretly proud of her. Not that he would ever tell her so.

And it was a fear of his. Because of she ever left Hogwarts…she'd be leaving him too.

_**Lunch time…a few hours later…**_

He taught classes and then waited until lunch to barge into her office. She had to be there because she hadn't eaten lunch in the Great Hall either.

And now he was very suspicious…_so unlike her usual routine._

Which he, er, had down pat.

"Er, come in. Why do I bother… you just barge in anyway," called out Septima resignedly. Her soft, clear, charming voice was music to his ears.

She had no idea of what it did to him.

And he said nothing because the scene that met his eyes had caught him entirely off guard.

It was Sinistra and Vector having tea. _Which was quite normal…there was a tea tray and other miscellaneous items…._but he also saw…

"What in Merlin's name, might I ask, are those?" he asked derisively. He stared at the item furtively and then gave Septima a piercing, accusatory glare.

And then he remembered himself.

"Flowers…uh, Snape." Aurora was still angry about this morning.

"I know that, Sinistra…but from whom?" he inquired nastily.

"Her old boyfriend…"she sing-songed and smiled at Septima.

"Probably to break the ice…" said Septima staring at them wistfully.

_Something else was breaking…_ he thought morosely…_like his heart…_

_What? When did this occur…who was the fool?_

He hadn't felt what now had overcome him in years. Panic, a sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach that was now traveling down to his legs…he felt dizzy…he recovered just in time.

"Really…and if he truly wished to impress you, daisies are the way to go, I suppose." He spat ungenerously.

He paused for effect. He wished to plant the seed in her mind.

"They are unsightly…" He began snidely, his tone malicious and he wished to convey with all of his expression and gestures at how unimpressed he was.

"No they are not," scoffed Aurora.

And then fear entered his body again. Septima was just looking over at the flowers and was not saying much.

And that would prove most difficult for him to gauge what she thought. Because he wished desperately to know how this would affect her.

_At least I gave her bluebells that one year for the Hogwarts grab bag…this individual had gall…daisies…really…how utterly tacky._

"You have a right to your opinion as I have mine." He stated smoothly.

"You know, Snape…" Septima laughed. And he softened within. It was like a balm, that sound…that melted over him.

"I have to admit that you are right. The same thing crossed my mind when I received them today."

"Yes, it translates to: I refused to spend one galleon." He uttered abruptly. He had to convince her of this.

"Severus…." Aurora piped up in astonishment.

"Ok, I agree with him there…there are many other flowers that would have been nicer," offered Septima in amusement. "However, he has been known to do the unexpected."

Snape _did not_ like this bit of information one bit.

"One should always go with roses…" said Snape miserably. But his face showed no emotion.

They looked at him in horror.

"Or perhaps he feared that roses were too bold a statement. He hasn't seen you, Septima, since you left to work here," stated Aurora graciously.

"Daisies are simple… friendly… a nice gesture."

And Snape noted that Septima said this in almost a trance. She wouldn't look at them, only at the flowers.

He felt his stomach twitch again, and he cursed the flowers and the sender silently.

"Some people swear by them and seem to love them." She continued to fixate on the flowers.

"Surely not," said Snape abrasively. "And I believe your first impression was the correct one, Vector." He studied her calmly.

"How do you know about this?" This seemed to snap her out of it.

"I just know." He said firmly.

"Because if I were to give someone flowers…." His tone was casual.

Their jaws dropped.

"The very best are at that shop in Hogsmeade. Fresh deliveries daily…Holland…Asia…whatever exotic or unusual flowers someone could wish for. And as for roses, they offer hybrids…the very latest… and at the very least, _someone…could_ have sent you pink if not red."

"Are you all right?" asked Septima rattled.

"I am fine." He looked stoically at her. His outward appearance smooth.

But for his insides that were twisting so badly he was surprised that he could breathe. I was proving difficult.

"You…you have experience with this?" asked Aurora cautiously.

"No. And I don't have to gift someone to know this. Common knowledge one would think, don't you agree?"


	4. December 3rd

**The Potions Master's Countdown to Christmas**

**Chapter 4: December 3****rd**

_**The morning…**_

It took all his endurance to get ready for breakfast the next day. He still couldn't get over the fact that some meddlesome old love was trying to contact her. Vector had worked here for four years and he had never heard a whisper about a, er, boyfriend or anything of that nature.

Then a thought occurred to him…

He remembered two years ago when Sinistra asked Vector something regarding a date over that summer. He hadn't been interested in her then or not aware of it yet for that matter so he had paid it no mind. Was it the very same fool who was trying to get back into her good graces now?

He slammed the door to his office shut in horror at the memory.

And then he remembered to compose himself as he glided off to the Staff Room. Everyone would be there, including Vector. They were having a small, informal meeting regarding December Events before breakfast in the Great Hall.

Fear entered his mind…that not even years of occlumency could quell.

_This was not some holiday nonsense. This was something that needed to be looked into._

People, er, not him, send pointsettias, holly, pine, and other types of botanicals during the season.

_This was not one of those times._

The only thing that was good was that the fool had selected daisies and he noted that Vector appeared to be underwhelmed.

_As she should be…_

_And the fool should know his place and not bother her anymore._ And he, Severus Snape, would remind him of this and step in from the shadows if need be.

This was no ordinary mission….like his Order work, or tasks delegated by the Dark Lord.

It was strictly about the blasted sod that was now trying to contact _his _Vector, his former mentoring subject, after having not bothered since she came to work her….but _now _the thought occurred to him.

_Ah, deep, passionate love…obviously….madly in love with her…the dolt! Like she would fall for that….did the fool even really know her anymore?_

Well, it appeared that his owl, Charon., would also have some work on his end in the Owlery.

_And the Floo Network would have to be checked regrettably, for signs of an irksome idiot that sent ghastly daisies thinking it would impress any female really._

_Why had he stopped contacting her? She was beautiful…undoubtedly. Surely, he had to know that she was smart, and now she has more prestige as a professor and she had been a Gringotts cursbreaker._

Snape himself could acknowledge that the combination was intoxicating and knew firsthand of the allure and appeal of Vector.

_Perhaps, he wasn't such a dolt after all?_

_No, the fool wasn't going to use her._

He would see to that.

Even if he couldn't have her to himself, that dolt was not going to hurt her.

_If they ended it years ago…who initiated it?_

Snape had been hurt once. He knew how it felt and he didn't want her to feel as he had. It still hurt these many years later that Lily had chosen Potter, especially when he didn't think very much of him at all. And then what he would have to live with for the rest of his life…the sad realization that perhaps life had a chance of turning out differently.

That right before the "mudblood incident" he had seen the signs…that maybe Lily would have considered him. It had been an abrupt ending to the hopes he allowed himself to entertain, that she would see the real Potter and have a change of heart.

_But it was not to be._

And then her…he thought he would never be interested in anyone but Lily. _This one…comes out of nowhere with a force that took me by such surprise I made her pay dearly for it on a daily basis. _

_Years and years of not even giving it much thought because I didn't particularly care that I didn't encounter anyone with the goodness, genuineness, wittiness, and caring for others that Lily did._

_What if the Headmaster hadn't hired her? _

_But Lily…_he could admit now that it had been a downward spiral before that. A part of him often wondered if he had botched things up subconsciously and on purpose because he knew even then that Lily was too good for him.

But sadly, he still believed, that she was still too good for Potter. And he had to admit grudgingly that Potter knew it to. _Even his head wasn't that big when it came to Lily._

And Snape knew he was good to her…and she was happy…she had a child like she always mentioned she would like to someday.

Very gut-wrenching, but perhaps there was truth to it at that stage in his life.

He hated Potter still, always would, but she had loved him apparently and he had made her happy.

_Was it ever going to be different? Maybe not..._ Because the more he tried to draw her closer to him the opposite happened; she was pulled farther away.

And a little voice deep down somewhere sometimes told him that it was probably why he was so hostile to Vector…

_And Vector was different from Lily. The same noble kindness, other wonderful qualities, the temper certainly, but they looked different. Lovely…but different, and Lily was more idealistic than Septima. Septima was more realistic like myself. And that was probably for the better, because me not understanding at the time some of Lily's ideals was usually what got us started on rows from time to time._

_And Septima would never put up with Potter's nonsense like Lily did._ It was encouraging to him.

But, alas, she wouldn't put up with Snape's either.

_Yes, Lily had more patience, perhaps was more intuitive than Vector._

_Who really knew?_


	5. December 4th

**The Potions Master's Countdown to Christmas**

**December 4****th**

**The Dungeons…Professor Snape's Office…**

_Deck the Halls with boughs of Holly….Fa la la la la…_

The horrible warbling preceded the knock at the door of his office.

Professor Snape opened the door to a smiling Flitwick and a bursting with joy Sinistra and some students who were carrying on the tradition of practicing for the school performance to be held closer to the end of the month and the holidays, by travelling around the school to perform informally for anybody who would tolerate their racket.

He eyed them severely and looked curiously at the rather plump toads that were cradled in the arms of some students and he marveled, were croaking out notes that sounded rather better than Sinistra's.

It was too much. The red and green robes…the toads wearing Father Christmas hats…the tinsel in the hair of the girls and Sinistra…

He raised an eyebrow in derision and slammed the door in their faces.

"But what is the bloody matter? Can't he just get with the holiday spirit for once?"

"It is my mistake, my dear. I forgot that this is when he is marking his papers,' shrugged Flitwick.

They retreated from the Dungeons but not before noticing a charmed sign that had appeared that was not there a second ago.

_Caroling or any type of Holiday performances are prohibited anywhere in the vicinity of the Slytherin Head of House's office, classroom, and private quarters. Failure to adhere to this rule will result in a 50 – point House deduction. Any Hogwats Staff Member that wishes to make any inquiries can make an appointment with Professor Severus Snape at his leisure._

_Professor Severus Snape_

_Potions Master_

_Head of Slytherin House_

"Really….so unkind," whispered an astonished Professor Sinistra to Professor Flitwick, hoping the students would not overhear her.

"He, er, had this up last year too, if I remember correctly."

Professor Snape was livid. Could he not be miserable in the privacy of his own office?

For this flower business with Vector was nagging at him.

But he chose to forget it for a bit. Because very soon a rather fortuitous plan was about to be enacted…

Every year, for both the Christmas, Valentine's, and even other assorted grab bags, he and Vector always drew each other's names. For years he had cursed and threatened to curse the Sorting Hat who created the names and made the selections.

And he pretty much had guessed awhile ago that he believed both the Sorting Hat and the Headmaster had had a hand in this over the years.

Perhaps for humor and maybe even something else that he had not even been aware of at the time.

But he kept his feelings to himself as far as informing an already very inquisitive and perceptive Headmaster regarding him and Vector.

So, all he had to do was draw her name from the Sorting Hat, as usual, and present her with the loveliest flowers she had ever seen.

He would contact that flower shop that was the very best in their world. Because he had information that the dolt ex-boyfriend did not; she hated daisies, she loved roses and bluebells, and perhaps he would even top that.

It would one up the old boyfriend and convey his feelings for her without him having to make the first move and say anything at first.

Snape smiled at his inert genius. He really had to hand it to himself.

It was about time after all. He had been enamored with her for quite some time now. Perhaps even when she started working here and he hadn't known or dared even to admit it to himself.

And this would do both in one fell swoop.

_This old boyfriend nuisance would be outsmarted and outmaneuvered. So perhaps there was no need to feel quite so miserable._

Not that his Vector was a game.

She was dearer to him than anyone else could be.

His friend…his confidante…his ickle bickle potions sweetie as even Peeves had come to recognize. Even though he got the gist of it, that even Peeves realized that they were made for each other, but Peeves really could have worded it in a less nausea-inducing fashion one could guess.

He went to his desk and pushed his papers to the side. He would give himself twenty minutes to think of Vector uninterrupted and then would proceed to finish his third year examination marks.

How much longer could he stand it?

He wanted to feel her dark hair…take his fingers and play with strands of the sweet-smelling, silky, long hair that brushed his shoulder once and he had stood stock still in shock as she passed over him to reach for toast in the Great Hall once.

That when his eyes had opened so quickly in alertness, even Professor McGonagall had asked him if he was all right…

.

He couldn't quite finish his toast after that.

And Vector, very sweetly, had eyed him curiously and continued to silently nibble at her toast that she had reached for. And he thanked her silently that this had happened at all due to Vector's fear of asking him to fetch anything for her.

Perhaps being a complete socially awkward fool had its moments at last!

This effect she had on him…he marveled at it being so. What he had learned for years over cauldrons…the strong…powerful delicate liquids yet so potent…Amortentia…love potions…he doubted would ever have the effect that Vector's hair had on him.

She had continued to eat her toast and noticed nothing. Vector never did. He always composed himself around her when he could manage it.

But now the toast and _her _was getting to him. He may never be able to eat near her again. He would have to call down to the elves and have them send something to his office.

Because he noted uncomfortably that as she delicately nibbled at her toast, the only word that could possibly describe, her adorable habit, he wanted to nibble her…

And then he had blushed red for a second and hoped to Merlin that nobody had noticed.

He had excused himself and swept off to the dungeons like the awkward fool he was.

But the thought of that now…well, it was one of the highlights of his day.

All thoughts of her were…until he was disturbed by a knock at the door.

He looked through the peephole.

_DAMN IT…It was VECTOR!_

He now felt embarrassed and exposed by the rush of warm that enveloped him.

He mustered everything he had ever learned about occlumency to appear presentable to her.

It was this guilty feeling he had…knowing she was terrible at legilimancy…but fearing exposure of his sentiments for some irrational reason.

So he gathered his wits about him and put the most cocky and cold expression on his face that he could muster, accompanied by the most smart ass smirk he could perform under the circumstances.

He opened the door and the smirk turned down when she rushed past him and wordlessly slammed his office door.

He stepped back, realizing that any contact with her person today would unravel him.

He looked at her perplexed. _What was the matter?_ And then he marveled that her temper was always so appealing to him. He crossed his arms over his chest and awaited the delights of a very _very _attractive and lovely female in a right foul temper.

And towards _him_…

"Vector, what can I do for you today?" He asked in a bored tone.

"Lose the sign, you bloody moron! Take a break from being an asshole at least for Christmas or am I expecting too much?" She shot him a withering glare.

He sort of smiled, in a fiendish manner. He always enjoyed their battle of wits…and he rather enjoyed her foul language even though he pretended he didn't, which was an arduous task for him, when the haughty down-turned lips were pissed off at him, and the purplish-blue eyes longed to slap him.

It didn't take long.

"How I care to spend my holiday season is no business of yours, Vector,' he informed her ungraciously.

She swatted his arm and he vowed to truly not wash this robe for a spell this time. He did, though she accused him often not laundering his robes for some odd reason…

"Was it necessary to slam the door in Aurora and Filius's faces and the young students of Hogwarts?"

"They are aware of the rules…at least in the Dungeons…"

"Are you mad? How could you?"

_Mad for you, yes, not so much for your friend's singing._ He gave her a sarcastic smirk which enraged her further and made him about two seconds from grabbing her. In a romantic way, of course…he wasn't a heathen. It was probably his eternal shyness that allowed him to never get anywhere near to telling her that he adored her.

He wasn't shy with anyone but her…_like he was sixteen again or something._

But even with Vector, he had mastered restraint as he did now.

_Though it was becoming exceedingly difficult…_

He had forgotten himself once…and almost kissed her, but he had recovered nicely.

She thought he had something in his eye and he could only be thankful that any ruse had worked in that moment as he didn't blame himself entirely.

He was lucky. _How dare she walk through a corridor at night wearing only sleepwear when I was investigating something for Dumbledore._

_The nerve…_

He hadn't thought about that memory in so long…maybe he would do it tomorrow in his office. _Right before the fourth year exams required marking…_

"Are you even listening to me?"

He grew slightly nervous. He had started to day dream while she railed at him. He had never done this before and hoped his face hadn't given anything away.

He would have to be more careful about this now.

"I doubt they will err again so there will be no need for me to slam any more doors, I assure you. Oh, and will you be drawing your grab bag name soon?"

"Yes, I am scheduled for seven and then…"

He eyed her with increasing curiosity,"…and then what, Vector?" he said deliberately, making sure his tone was nonchalant.

"Aurora and I were going out for….with….for drinks."

He felt his stomach somersault. She was keeping something from him. _Why would she say…_

"Just you and Aurora…"

"…Oh, and some of the staff….not that you would bother to come along….not that I would want you to after what you did to Aurora and Filius."

"Flitwick knows…he taught me…he knows I bear him no ill will. Your friend on the other hand, should do us all a holiday service and refrain from warbling. She is as delusional about being that next Warbeck like Lockhart is about being a wizard."

She made a face at him. "Good bye, Snape. I will see you tomorrow and we can pretend that we are surprised that the Sorting Hat gave us each other's name again." She turned and stormed off.

"Surely, Vector."

He watched her leave. Did she think he was stupid? He would make an appearance at the pub. McGonagall would tell him where they were off too after he made fun of the Gryffindor quidditch team as was their tradition. A tradition that had nothing to do with the nonsense of the holiday season.


End file.
